Now Cracks a Noble Heart
by TenTenD
Summary: Beginnings and endings have always been easier to place than what stands between them. But a story will not entertain if it misses any of those three moments. Worry not, for this story shall not leave you unfulfilled. So, my dear reader, have a sit and open yourself to the experience. You might find yourself caught in an adventure.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own anything but the original characters, such as Evelin Brams and her family. If Hellboy were mine, we all know, the Prince would not have died at the end. Alas, poor me. It wasn't meant to be. That said, I hope you'll enjoy this first chapter.

* * *

Now Cracks a Noble Heart 

_**Prologue: **_There are no facts, only interpretations

_Once upon a time, when the world had few days behind it and man had yet to spring from the mind of the Creator, the earth was populated by many a race, each and ever one such race with its own powers and weaknesses. Fairest among them were the Elven kind. Tall and radiant a people, they cared for the other creations and for the earth itself, ensuring the days rolled on in harmony and prosperity found all the souls dwelling on their lands. Naught could fill their hearts better than the bringing of joy. And under their care the world thrived._

_Remarkable civilisations were born in these lands. But by far the greatest was the Empire of the warrior elves of Bethmoora. Under Balor the One-Armed the greatest height had been reached. But in achieving what they had the Elves had placed themselves on equal ground with the Giver-of-life. Never did they outrightly challenge His authority, and yet some voices whispered of rebellion, they incited, they pushed for war. Others, milder ones, prayed for mercy. And God, in His supreme goodness, lent ear to them. For as a father could not bear to see harm come to one of his children, neither could He allow His children onto a path of darkness and destruction. Should they turn onto Him, He could but give them a clean death._

_Thus God devised a fitting punishment for his children's arrogance. He called to him the King of the Elven realm and said onto him, "My son, My heart is torn at the sight of My people. Seen you how they peer through lowered lashes, cunning in thoughts and more and more unkind in manner? This needs be stopped."_

_Balor lowered his crowned head at the criticism. "I can but ask that you show mercy onto us," he said. Wise in his age, King Balor knew not to defy the Maker for his wrath would leave the land to suffer. "Give us lesson that we may never forget, give us hope after." _

"_Then I so say onto you, Balor of the Elvenkin, for you and yours there shall come a time when you will be tested beyond what you think possible. Whether you pass or not it is up to you. However, know this, should you fail then the entire of your race will fade with you." That decreed the lord onto the first of his followers. "May the stars serve faithful guides."_

_Upon hearing the will of God, Balor bowed to the one more powerful. "Your will be done," he said._

_Not long was it until a new race emerged. Unlike the Firstborns, they had not a body made of starlight or meteor dust, nay, they were fashioned of clay and water, their blood thin and their insides empty, hungering for not even they knew what. But God, in all His wisdom, bestowed upon them His love. The Sons of the Earth could not understand what the Creator saw in these creatures too swiftly blown by a gust of wind. They were frail and weak of heart, they dreamt of bloodshed and lusted after power. They wanted what was not theirs to want. And to gain what they desired, they would stop at nothing._

"_I give you Man," said God, placing his latest creation upon the ground. "Live in peace with your brethrens. Let My will be carried out."_

_And Balor, seeing his chance, took the younger being under his wing. For many a year they lived in peace. The Elves and not only saw that the humans were taught the ways of the land. And as Men grew in number and strength a chance crept upon them all. Soon, dissatisfied with their lot, the last of God's creatures grew resentful of their elders. They gathered together, their leaders joining hands in order to raise an army the likes of which had never been seen._

"_On this day we are gathered to decide our fate." And decode they did. For hours on end they talked at lengths about their plan and the desired outcome. It seemed to them that as the finest creation of the Heaven's Father they should have been given more than they then possessed. "If they do not give freely then we must force them to hand over what is ours by virtue."_

_Unbeknownst to them in his halls the Almighty was preparing himself for what was to follow. He had given the choice to all the races. The power was in their hands. There came a moment when not even He could do anymore but watch. "What use in your freedom of choice if I make the choice for you?" The question was for one of the humans that had beseeched Him His council. "Forge your own path." _

_The Eleven King made aware of the plans of humans sought council from his Council. His son, young and brave, strong and fair to look upon, was in favour of war. "If it is a fight they seek, my Lord father, then we must oblige them. Or we shall fall to their swords." Nuada Silverlance would not see his people fallen under cruel hands. "Father, if this be our test, let us make ready." Well-meaning, alas impetuous, the young Prince held much sway over his father. The King gave consideration to the words of his son and saw their worth._

_In answer to the swarm of men, the Sons of the Earth brought together their own armies. And so it was that blood flowed on once peaceful lands. Red of thick kind fell upon grass and sands alike, moans of pain and bellows of rage mixed under the scorching heat of the sun. To say how the battle was fought, how man brave warriors had greeted the shores of the afterlife in the wake of combat, how suffering had taken the light from so many eyes would not bring justice to the events. Loss was a thing to be felt, not understood. Becoming aware of the Lord's plan, King Balor put a stop to the fighting._

_Peace followed war. But peace did not bring happiness. The son of the King was not pleased with the tenuous reconciliation. By way of protest he chose to leave his father's side. "Only when my people will truly have need of me shall I return. And when I do, beware, for I shall not allow these wretches to continue ruling over what is ours," Nuada vowed. Without success did his sister try to dissuade him. Her words fell upon deaf ears. Yet Nuada loved well the sibling with whom he'd shared a mother's womb. "Nuala, my dear sister," he said upon feeling a wave of grief that was not his, "shed not your tears for me. I will return."_

_Wiser in some ways than her brother, Princess Nuala shook her head. "You will not return the same." And in the most secret corner of her heart the maiden feared he would come back to her a shell filled with rage and hatred, for she could see the heat in his glare, flames slowly licking at his soul, devouring the boy she'd loved so well. "Nuada, brother, stay." It was one last effort, one more attempt at keeping her twin within reach, to keep him protected._

"_Nay," he denied her softly. The sight of her tears gave him pause. Nuada opened his arms to her. Nuala accepted the comfort of his hold. "I cannot stay. My very soul demands that I depart and seek salvation." But not even the breaking of his own heart would change his mind. "Forgive me this, sister. Forgive me the pain I cause you, my other half."_

_A sort of confusion stole over him when his eyes met those of his sister. Nuada slowly released her from his embrace. He could stay no longer, for if she asked him again to stay his wavering heart would cause him trouble. With one last good-bye to his twin, the Prince of the Elves took his leave. He did not hear his sister's heartbreaking sobs, nor her pleas. But he felt them as if they were his own. It was then that Nuada closed himself off to her. In time shed would no longer feel the absence of him quite so daunting. In time he would learn to breath without knowing she did the same only a few rooms away. He would not let his people down, he would not show weakness._

_He faced many dangers in the world ahead of him. Fairy folk and humans alike saw in his self-imposed exile a chance to rid themselves on one who could become an incredible foe. Prince Nuada's lack of loyalties made him a danger for both former friends and current enemies. But, great warrior, tried before in battle, the Elven soldier fought them off one by one and gained allies of his own as time went on. _

_And if has not yet found peace in battle, if he has yet to be slain by an enemy, then Prince Nuada still walks the earth and lives among us. _

* * *

Evelin Brams set her book down. Her TV had been one for quite some time, with the volume down so it would not disrupt her reading. However, the image of the red devil on the screen captured her attention. Hellboy. They called him Hellboy, and what a fitting name. He looked like a creature sprung from the eternal fires. And yet he did not act like one. Numerous times had he helped her kind and they continued to vilify him. The young woman supposed it was in the nature of humans, for which of her fellow humans could boast of not fearing the strange and unnatural? She thought not.

Children dreaded the dark. What it was to be young and scared of the creatures lurking under the bed, of the cold hands and strange eyes. Evelin remembered, for the dark scared her most. The unknown brought a chill up her spine; it made her hairs stand on end, and her heart thumped loudly. Jabberwokies, incorporeal Grendels, and creatures of the dark that shied from even the gentlest strokes of the moonbeams, they were by far more frightening than the man with red skin and horns atop his head. "How can they not see that he's only trying to help?" A sad state of affairs, she considered.

Grown men feared the light for it showed to them the true nature of things. Ah, the light, both a sign of love from God and a source of anguish, for it alone could uncover truths better left to be swallowed by darkness and forgotten. And yet all people craved it, they could not live in its absence. No matter how harsh the truth, no matter how vile, they would choose it over the uncertainty. Fear cut deeper than any other weapon. Hellboy, Evelin mused, was damned either way. Light or dark, humans feared him for what he was, without even knowing what he could be.

But the existence of this Hellboy in itself proved that God has a plan. Why else would he have allowed one such as he to live and thrive and protect them all? Had the Lord not wanted Hellboy to live he would not have. Evelin smiled as one of the reporters asked once again what the big red creature planned to do. It was as if they expected him declare war upon them. Humans got dimmer and dimmer, it seemed. Supposedly it was of their own doing. Evelin hardly doubted that. Many of their suffering were of their own making after all. It was something the woman had learned long ago.

Human had a way of destroying they touched. The world was fragile, more so than any of them could tell. And yet its strength they could not comprehend. How very much like them was their world. Evelin toyed with the idea of returning to her book but abandoned the thought. Her taste for courtly intrigue had vanished upon coming to the image of Hellboy and his companions. It was time to ponder upon those questions which left one with more inquires than answers. Such was the habit of deep philosophising.

Before she could lose herself in these thoughts, her phone started ringing. The shrill sound made her wince. Evelin's lips pulled down at the corners but she reached for the device anyway. If one could not escape, one might as well face whatever danger they encountered. "Hello! This is Evelin Brams speaking."

"Hello, Evelin!" a male voice replied. It was, of course, the only male to call her residence. "It's Daniel. I was wondering if Mira and I could bring Nate over for a few days, a week at most."

Daniel Brams was Evelin's older brother, and only brother at that. There were seven years between them, but they got along fairly well. Mira was his wife of six years, and Nathan, or Nate as he was affectionately called, was their son. Every now and again they would leave him at Evelin's place. The younger sister hadn't minded caring for her nephew in the past, nor would she start at this point. "Sure, Daniel, bring him over."

Normally a closed person by nature, Evelin was not much for company. But her young nephew had grown up around her, and she'd come to love the little guy to bits. It was really lucky that she could take him in to work. Nate was a good child, easy to get along with and not given to making trouble. Should Evelin give him something to do, he would do that quietly. In that he was much like his aunt.

"Thank you, Evelin!" Daniel proceeded to express his gratitude, ignoring Evelin's attempts to stay then flood. "You ought to come with us the next time we visit England. Marge says that she'll drag you herself if you don't visit this Christmas."

Originally of Isle of Wight, England, Evelin had come to the USA when she was in her teens. Her parents and brother and her, the whole family moved when their father was relocated. But that had been years ago, and her father had stopped working for that company. Then he died of a heart attack, and her mother had remarried since and gone to Florida. Daniel met Mira when Evelin was still in University, and they now lived in Queens, while Evelin had remained in Manhattan.

Contact had been kept with relatives and some friends, but Marge was by far the most insistent. Her mother's sister used every opportunity she got to try convincing her niece and nephew to come back. But Evelin had long since settled in her life and she was happy with the way things were. "You can tell her that I'll do my best, but I don't think I'll be able to make it. Work, you know." In consequence, Evelin used the excuse of work to avoid going there. Aunt Marge had a way of prying out of anyone information they would rather not give. "Give my regards to Sylvie when you see her. And tell me when to expect you."

"I'll drop him off at your place tomorrow afternoon," her brother announced. "I swear to God, Evelin, you have to stop filling his head with those fairytales of yours. The boy refuses to sleep if one of us does not read something to him."

How else was a child supposed to fall asleep? Evelin did not comment, she merely chuckled good-naturedly. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Daniel. Have a good evening!"

Their parents had read to her when she was little, and she was certain that to Daniel too. But her brother and his wife, they were busy people. Evelin could understand how they saw reading tales as a waste of their precious time, yet they ignored the importance of such works. Literature was not merely entertainment; it had never been such and those to consider it simply a means of amusement were denigrators of a sacred temple to her. It was beyond the young woman's capacity of understanding how others could label the written as rubbish and throw it away without a thought. That might have been the poet's soul in her, rather than her more rational part.

An enthused young woman, Evelin had been a good pupil, both in school and in university. That achievement was tied with her love for knowledge. Since young, Evelin had preferred reading to other activities. When one read a book, another could be found just around the corner, then another and another. And with every chapter, every page and every word new world came to life within her mind. Whole universes had found themselves devoured by her eyes at one point or another. How could she live without knowing? To know was to have power and to have power was to decide. It was a gift, and those who squandered it were poorer for it. Why settle for mediocrity when greatness waited? Why settle for less when one could have more? That was what her brother refused to understand.

However, Evelin had seen in her nephew a reflection of herself. And as such she had vowed to share her knowledge with him. And the child drank it all. Fairytales were the simplest of what she planned to read to the boy. If she could bring up in him a taste for learning, she could paint his world in other colours than black and white. How could a person not what to see all the shades and hues? How could they choose to keep to their blacks and whites and live without reds, blues, greens, and so many other colours? Nate apparently could not, and Evelin was determined to teach him as many colours as she knew. Together they would pain the world.

Ignorance was a disease. Evelin came by it every day. It invaded the mind and twisted the truths around until they were unrecognisable. It bred monsters, perverse fiends feeding on the intellect, on the very understanding of the world. No human could escape his own limits. But nothing stood in the way of knowledge if one truly wished to earn it. Whether it took them more or less years, that was without relevance, for never once did man stop learning. Conscious or not, information found its way in the mind, unless blocked. Man was both great and weak.

Herein laid the greatest tragedy of the humans. Caught between two poles, two pitiless opposites, tearing at him, man could but resign himself to the impassability of nature and his own incontestable doom. Now, one could embrace the fate, walk towards this end without a fight. Walk blind through life save for those small needs that brought a fleeting joy. Or one could fight. Not with weapons such as sharp words and cutting knives. No, sharp minds and tongues made for better weapons, words could make a giant as easily as they could bring down a giant. And what was man if not one such giant built upon words and thoughts, a fissure in that carefully wrought armour could topple the mountain. Evelin had long since decided she would fight, and her weapons she needed as much as she needed air.

Throughout her considerations Evelin had neglected the _Tales of Old_ that had been neatly laid on the counter. The young woman sat back down and took the book with her, putting it on her lap. A week with her favourite nephew – and her only nephew if she were to be sincere – made her mood brighter. Nathan could not speak with her of the great mysteries of life, but there was a certain animal comfort in knowing another soul close to hers. And Evelin was not above such needs be they of baser ilk. Closed-off and withdrawn she might have been, but even she had need of company. Children fed both her desire for conversation and her hunger for knowledge, as they were, as they were ever curious. Besides they, much like her, could peer through the veils that separated worlds. They could see beyond the flesh and bones, they could see the soul. If that were some kind of madness, Evelin confessed to being mad and being better for it. For only the fool could tell what really was. The sane would shy away and see there what was nor or they would not see what there was.

Shaking her head, Evelin returned to reading. Yet her mind would not cooperate at the moment. It seemed that she had neglected another important aspect of her daily care. Glancing to the clock, she was surprised to find that the hour was late, later than she would have thought. Evelin made her way to the kitchen. It did not take long for her to reheat yesterday's meal. "Evelin, at some point or another you'll have to go grocery shopping," she said upon noticing her somewhat empty refrigerator. Perhaps she would do it after Daniel dropped his son off. Little Nate would be happy to help.

* * *

Notes:

**Title** – "Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. " This is the full quote which has inspired the work's title. It is what Horatio says upon Hamlet's death in Shakespeare's "Hamlet".

**Chapter title - **"There are no facts, only interpretations." This quote comes from Nietzsche whose work I find pleasing. It is a reference to the fact that every person perceives differently the world. I think this needs no further clarification.

**Evelin** – The name bares the meanings of life and, possibly, desired. I just like the sound of this name.

**Brams **– Johannes Brahms, although to be fair Evelin is of English origin, with Romanian roots. Brams has been loosely inspired by Castle Bran which ties in with the well-known Dracula, although the person that inspired the image of the vampire, Vlad III, voivode of Wallachia, had little to do with the castle itself.

**Hybris – **Also known as "hubris", this concept is used to point out the over-reaching exhibited by a person or an entire culture. In my story the hybris is represented by the Elves' attempt to become the equals of the Creator. In the ancient Greek tragedies the hybris often led to a painful and violent end for the perpetrator of an offence.

**Morality – **I shall attempt to make use of the brilliant example of the ancient Greek in this. In their plays (the tragedies) there was no real villain. What drove the plot further was a conflict of moral imperatives. There are many examples to be found, and I won't include them here. But know that I will try to conduct my characters after this standard. That is to say, there will be no fully good or fully evil characters. All actions will have some motivation, whether they are justified or not, I leave up to my readers.

**Blaise Pascal** – "Man's grandeur is that he knows himself to be miserable." For Pascal the human being is both damned and brilliant. A bit of his philosophical attitude has already been shown in Evelin's soliloquy. He is an interesting author to read.

**Plato** – The following quotes have served as inspiration: "Ignorance, the root and stem of every evil." and "We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." One of the classics, never should it be said that Plato did not have some truth is his words.

**Jabberwocky** – Carroll Lewis was very fond of inventing words, as such he coined a series of portmanteaux terms among which is Jabberwocky also. In fact the whole poem dedicated to this creature is made up of such words. The interesting fact is that even without understand the actual meaning of the words one can conjure an image of the Jabberwocky, rendered scarier still by the incertitude.

**Beowulf **– Grendel is one of the antagonists Beowulf has to face in the eponymous heroic poem. Now, in the Old English variant Grendel is not described beyond his origin, descendent of Cain, so called "shadugenga" (walker of the darkness) and also it is said about him that he has the power of thirty men. That said, Grendel hunts in the dark and the warriors cannot see him most of the time, which produces a palpable tension.

**The Fool** – At the King's court the Fool was the only person who could speak the bleak truth without repercussions, precisely because he was not sane. What was perceived as a joke by the courtiers was often the truth they would not dare voice.

**Colours** – Here they denote ways of thinking; to appreciate the value of one's system of ordaining the world, one must first understand said system. This is actually a reference made by a professor of mine. It shall not be expanded on.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own anything but the original characters, such as Evelin Brams and her family. If Hellboy were mine, we all know, the Prince would not have died at the end. Alas, poor me. It wasn't meant to be. That said, I hope you'll enjoy this first chapter.

* * *

_**Chapter 1:**_ The fear of death follows from the fear of life

Mira's light eyes glowed with mirth as she took in the visage Evelin presented. "I'm afraid we have disrupted you." There was no apology in her voice though, and Evelin did not miss that. She stepped aside, making way for her guests. Nate followed his mother in, after which Daniel joined them.

"It's alright, Mira. You did not disrupt anything." It was almost comical to notice the look of pure exasperation on the other woman's face. Evelin hid a smile and opened her arms to Nate who squealed and ran into her embrace, covering his father's greeting completely. "Hello, Nate! Daniel."

Instructions were offered, as they always were. Evelin accepted those with a nod and a smile. Like many other parents with a single child, Mira and Daniel thought of Nate as their shining star, and thus took great pains to make him happy. Evelin patiently waited for them to get through their list, which she already knew by heart. Nate, on the other hand, lacked such self-discipline. He started playing with the lapels of his jacket, rocking gently on his heels.

"And that should be about it," Mira finished, bending to place a kiss on her son's cheek. The boy promptly pulled away, wiping the skin with the back of his hand, and made a noise of mock-disgust. "In a few years you won't be scowling so when a girl kisses you."

"Girls are yucky. They have cooties," Nate replied. "And before you say you and Evelin are girls, you are not! You are mom and she is Evelin." And to him it really was that simple to exclude them from the category of girls.

"Oh, Nate! I assure you I'm a girl," Evelin grabbed the boy around the wais and hoisted him up.

"But you're my friend," he pressed on, grabbing a hold of her shoulders. "You're not just a girl."

Having finally lightened the mood enough and dispensing of all the parents' fears, Evelin saw Daniel and Mira off, after which she returned to Nate sitting in her chair. He was obviously waiting for the customary apple juice and sweet his aunt gave him whenever he happened by. Nate shuffled his feet, the heel beating against the wooden structure of the chair. Evelin had the urge to laugh, but she tempered it down, smiling only.

"What should we do?" she asked him. A game well-played, she sensed, for Nate widened her eyes at her. "I forgot to buy apple juice. Do you think, my brave knight, that you could escort me to the shops and back?"

A smile nearly split the boy's face in half at the news. "I'll protect you!" he agreed heartily jumping down from his seat. As if he'd been expecting it, Nate hadn't even bothered to take his jacket off.

It wasn't even that chilly. The weather had been nice for the last couple of days, clouds hadn't gathered up and the wind hadn't blown all that much either. It was the perfect day for a slow walk to the shops and back. "Very well then, let us go and see what adventure awaits us."

As always, the streets were busy. Evelin was no fan of crowds, but she managed well enough. Gripping Nate's hand she steered them towards a narrow streets flooded by the a river of light. "See this path. It is enchanted. Just look at the cobbled stones." The asphalt shone invitingly, seemingly liquid in its brightness. "Dare we take the less travelled road?"

Nate pulled at her hand slightly, hurrying in front of her. He touched a foot gingerly to the ground and seemed to think it over carefully. "It seems safe." He tugged at her and Evelin followed compliantly with a smile. "Look there! It's a dragon," he whispered, pointing to a decked car with a ribbon trailing after it.

"It looks asleep. Perhaps we should be quiet and not wake him." The young woman tiptoed until she stood closer to the car. "Look at these colourful scales." It wasn't all that hard to imagine them as the car was flamboyantly painted. Artists these days, they had all sorts of ideas, one crazier than the other.

"Dragons eat maidens," Nate reminded her, his face going stern. "Not so close, or it might smell you." In many stories that was true. Dragons kidnapped fair maidens in order to gain something from them or to eat them, some even to marry them. Were she a fair maiden, Evelin supposed she would have been afraid. As it was she settled for a knowing glance and a shy grin.

"Ah, a traditional view," Evelin murmured to herself, though not in disappointment. "Very well then." She edged backwards and took hold of the boy's hand again. She winked at him and began a light jog. Nate grinned and pumped his smaller legs to keep up with her.

They reached the end of the alley laughing. Nate took charge once more. The light was still green, and the few cars that had stopped did not even honk. It must have been Evelin's lucky day. Nate let go of her and rushed ahead. Not bothering to call after him, knowing that he would wait for her at the other end anyway, Evelin walker slightly slower. As she ambled to her destination, she thought of all the things she had to buy. Aside from the apple juice, she needed to buy some rice as well and some meat, chicken perhaps. She could even make Nate that Chinese dish they liked so much.

"All this thinking about food makes me hungry." Realising she had said it out loud, Evelin looked around her. People generally didn't pay attention, but even so, it wouldn't do to be thought a lunatic. Snorting, Evelin quickened her pace. Lunatic, indeed!

"Nate! Wait for me," she called to the boy. He was already holding one of those large carriers, waiting for her to catch up. "Come on, kid. Let's go in!" And in they went.

Evelin could spent a lifetime and fill a thousand books with the many adventures of Nathan the Brave and Evelin of the Sea, as the boy had dubbed them. As ant other male he thought fearlessness was all there was to a warrior. As for her moniker, it had more to do with her origin, Nathan having been enthralled by the stories native to her country of origin. Evelin, far from disliking the boy's active mind, sought to find for them as many of these so called adventures as she could. Once, when Mira had asked her why she continued to play such games at her respectable age – she's been a little over twenty-two then – Evelin had quite simply stuck her tongue out and claimed, "I am much younger than that. In my heart." Following her statement she was promptly caught in a game with her nephew.

Truth be told, Evelin liked it better so. She could be both child and adult as the situation called for it. It suited her fine, this dancing between the responsible individual and the lively friend.

Paying for their purchases took no more than it usually did. Evelin helped Nate deposit everything in plastic bags. They walked together outside, and Evelin was just about to keep moving when she saw Nate's eyes going to a sweetshop witch had different assortments of cake in the windows. A treat after dinner would be most welcomed, she decided. Telling the boy that she would be back soon, Evelin crossed to her left.

She did not notice a car speeding towards her, she hadn't been paying attention. Evelin had momentarily turned her head to make sure Nate was where she'd left him, and when her attention returned to the street, it was already too late.

A piercing scream broke the deafening silence that had fallen over her. Had it been hears? Had someone else screamed? Tires screeching. A man dropping his cell-phone. Red paint. Blinding pain. The shock of her body being hit by an insurmountable weight. The heat of the ground underneath her. A crack. Something wet spreading under her head. Evelin looked to her right. Her lungs had stopped working. She couldn't breathe. The tiny voice in her head panicked, a frenzied speech ensuing.

Numerous times it had been said that when someone dies their life flashed before their eyes. Yet Evelin saw nothing but red on gray, she felt only the piercing pain, she hear the beating of her own heart slowing down, growing fainter. There were no memories, good or bad. Forcing her head to move, Evelin looked up. People were looking down at her. A lady in a black dress reached out to touch her. Instinctively she recoiled.

"Call an ambulance! For heaven's sake she's bleeding out! Can't have all this blood here staining the ground." Hands touched her, grabbing, prodding, pulling, lifting. Evelin couldn't help but think of Nate. Where was he? Still where she'd left him? "Get on, kid. We'll need to call your parents." The voice was gruff. The man, whoever he was, could not seem to speak kindly. Evelin wanted him to shut up.

Sirens blaring. Shakes and hurdles. Smooth hands. The scent of antiseptic. The sound of a child crying. A machine beeping. Warm lips on hers. Pressure on her chest. Agony again. Blindness. Extreme sickness. Searing pain. A whisper again her ear. The soft whooshing of cloth. Metal against metal, and a slight breeze. Strong light. Blessed nothingness.

Oblivion. Evelin was surrounded by darkness. Not the kind one experienced at night, this was different. She couldn't even see her hands before her. Mentally she pictured the image of lifting said hands, bringing her fingers to her face. With horror she discovered her task was an impossible one. As if lead had taken place of flesh and bone, she could not bring herself to move an inch. Evelin wanted to scream, to cry out for help.

No help came. Only cold. She was very cold. In fact it felt like she'd tumbled from spring to winter in the space of minutes. All-consuming was this darkness. Evelin willed her panic away, trying to make sense of what was happening.

The car had been speeding down the road, it hit her, and she fell down. The pain was still there. Naturally that must mean she was not dead. Perhaps she was in a state of unconsciousness, a comatose. Aside from the sudden cold, nothing indicated a change. She felt pain, she felt emotion. _Cogito ergo sum,_ the saying went.

In a world outside her own, the doctor pushed away the bloodied hair, taking a good look at the wound to make sure her calculations had been correct. "Here it is," she pointed with a gloved finger to the patch of gray. "We have to pull out these little rocks and sew the wound."

As far as wounds went she'd seen worse, but the proximity of it to the eye was worrisome. The young lady on her operating table was lucky she escaped with her life. It could have gone so much worse for her. But by some miracle she hadn't been maimed. Of course, nor could it be said that there would be no effects. Already something nasty was in the making.

According to the information gathered, the driver had slowed down at the last possible minute. Not fast enough to avoid injuring the girl, but enough to not kill her apparently. Yet alive did not always mean well. The fact that the woman had lost consciousness could mean a lot of things other than the shock of her head meeting the asphalt. Only time could answer that. The doctor worked on, cleaning the wound of all small bits of rock.

She was done before the arrival of her patient's family. Evelin was moved to a room with a young man, victim of a motorcycle accident. He hadn't been as lucky as miss Brams, but for the time being he breathed.

Something like warmth crept up Evelin's spine and diffuse light spread around her. Evelin tried to shake the weight pressing down on her. She struggled and struggled until finally something snapped, allowing her to float away. The young woman stood up, and looked around curiously.

The first thing she noticed was the open window. The sun was still shining, but it was gliding down, slowly going into hiding. Turning slightly she noticed another bed. Evelin watched the young man reclining in it, he was pale and drawn; even she could tell his death was near. Adverting her gaze for a brief moment, Evelin thought herself safe. Her terror was renewed when she lifted her hand only to see another arm under.

Flying out of bed, she landed on the floor. With a groan of pain, she opened her eyes. The tip of a black boot peaked from under gracefully falling folds of sturdy material. It was the same, she thought after a moment. Evelin's gaze shot up and met a pair of burning eyes, red as hot coal, two crimson points staring at her from within a set of black irises. Equally red lips parted in what seemed to be a sinister smile. Sharp, white teeth were revealed.

However it was not Evelin in the centre of this creature's attention. The darkly clad woman strode past the one lying on the floor. She approached the bed of the injured man and leaned over min. Evelin struggled herself in a sitting position. She eyed the scene with suspicion, opening her mouth to scream for help. Who had allowed this woman in?

Before she could bet a sound past her lips a wail broke upon the lips of the unknown woman. What had started as a thin cry, grew and grew in intensity. Covering her ears Evelin screamed too, whether from her own pain or fright, she could not tell. But the sound the other woman produced was no simple admission of anguish. Should she be told to describe it, Evelin would name this stranger banshee. Her cry ran loud once more. Evelin's hands did nothing to muffle it.

"Stop screaming!" she managed to say. Was there no stopping this sound? It bled through her fingers, seeping into her soul, tearing against her very sanity. "Stop!" Her hand pressed firmer against her ears.

In a blink of an eye it was over. Quite as sudden as it had started the wailing stopped, leaving behind the continuous beeping of a machine and no one but Evelin and the dead. Evelin knew that sound. It had been the sound she'd heard clearest when her father died. Not even his last words rang as clearly in her head as that – shameful as it was for her to admit to it.

Whoever that woman had been she'd disappeared from the premises. What if the doctors came in and thought she'd done something to the man? Evelin sprung to her feet, some unknown strength aiding her in the endeavour. She wanted to settle back in the bed and forget these illusions. They must have given her something to make her this hazy – her brain would accept no other explanation. When it wore off she would feel better, or so she told herself before her eyes landed on the prostrated form of a young woman.

On the bed slept another her. A woman with her face. In a rush of panic, Evelin rushed to the edge. "It's just the medicine. Only medicine," she assured herself. It could be one of those out of body experience where one was so sure they were out of their own body. Perhaps if she tried to re-enter. Time froze.

"That is not the way, child," a soft voice admonished, startling Evelin out of her planning. "Not the way, not the way," echoed two slightly different voices. "Child, child." Before her eyes a being came into form. Different from the mourner, this took the shape of an old woman, gray haired and slightly stooped. Patches of dried skin decorated too-pale features, and a light blue eyes gazed at Evelin from behind droopy eyelids. Her mouth opened and three voices emerged, "You won't do aught by this method." The echo followed.

"What is happening?" Evelin questioned, eyes narrowing. Yet fright took hold of her. All these creatures, they crossed to the world of humans so easily, they crept about so silently. Friends or foes? Lethal? Killers or saviours? But beings like Hellboy existed, did they not? So what stopped these denizens of another world from it? "Who are you?" Threading with caution, Evelin held the gaze of the other as the world melted around them.

For one endless moment the very fabric of time and space seemed to strain under the violation of its clearly established rules. Should the thread break, would the whole universe fall apart? Evelin existed again in that bleak darkness, only this time she had company; company that seemed content to watch the internal battle she was sure her face showed clearly enough. Was it easier to disbelieve? Of course. Would she choose the easy path? No, she wouldn't.

"Good, good. She'll listen now," the thickest of the voices emerged from between parted lips. "Yes, yes, I – we – think she is ready to hear us, sisters," another replied.

"I will hear nothing until you tell me who I am speaking to." Evelin realised that interrupting was a rude thing to do, but she could hardly help it. Inhibitions held no sway over her. By her own mind, she was not alive. Perhaps not dead, but not alive either.

"There are many names," the voice that had first spoken to Evelin stated. Her words were followed by a stream of names which the young woman could not pick up; they were both said too fast and in a language she was no familiar with. "But you may call me – us – Baba for now." The chatter of the other two died down to a hush. They whispered their agreement. "More important though, what are you, girl?"

"Evelin Brams." The answer was automatic. Evelin pushed back the impulse to extend her hand. This old woman could be dangerous, for all her apparent frailty when she opened her mouth three voices came out and her eyes sparkled in away that chilled the blood in her veins.

"No, no," Baba disagreed, shaking her head vehemently. "Child you are confused. I – we – ask not who. What? It has been a long time since any has survived the screeching _bean sí__._ Does death's call not seem sweet to you? Eternal comfort."

Some carved for death, for the peace it brought. Some thought it pointless to live. Some burdens broke the back of their carriers. Some lives had no 'why' to go on. Sometimes the 'how' was – indescribably – horrible. But Evelin had the 'why' and her 'how' did not bring rivers of tears. She wanted to live. But what could be gained by dying? Was there existence after? Would she continue to be herself, or would she become one with everything? It was a gamble. It depended on how much she was willing to sacrifice. The old woman spoke of comfort. Was comfort the same as contentment then? Was it fulfilling?

"Death scares me." As it did any other human. Death scared all the living – some more than others. Wanting something and not fearing it were different things. "And I am not yet so tired as to wish for eternal rest."

"And you think you have a choice?" There was laughter somewhere there, hidden behind pitying utterances.

Did she have a choice?"If I have no say, then there is no point in you speaking to me now, is there?" And if indeed she had some power over her own destiny, what would she do with it? "Do you have a choice?" The power to make it happen.

"No taking without the giving," the three voices spoke as one. "A deal, human. I – we – will make one with you. What do you say to this?"

Smiling Evelin nodded. "I would like to hear the terms before agreeing to anything." What would it say about her as a professional if she allowed herself to be cheated out of her life, or worse still, her soul. There was no malignance around the old woman, but then again evil did take the form thought to bring joy and sway the mind best. How much trust should she place in the creature before her?

"Ah, trust. What do you know of trust, little thing?" The question came to the lips, three grave lilts mingling. "Do you trust?"

"I trust my gains. I trust my friends. I trust my family. I trust my mind. I trust them up to a point. But I also trust in God, and that trust in boundless." Evelin, pleased with her answer, leaned slightly forwards, anticipating a sort of reply.

"Do you trust magic?" The old one leaned in equally close, her thin lips quivering.

A most unusual question. The phrasing was peculiar. This strange being had asked if she trusted magic, not if she believed in it, as if she knew that Evelin thought magic real. "I believe magic is something that frustrates my understanding a great deal, but I trust that good may come of it."

Between the two of them a bright flash of light come to life. Evelin closed her eyes, working on pure instinct. How strange it seemed to be acting this much like a living person when she did not know her state. Strange, indeed.

"This will help you." Three black strings entwined to make a necklace and a medallion dangled at an end. The undecided shape told Evelin little of what meaning it carried. She accepted the token though. "You can return with this; yes, you can enter your flesh again."

"And the price?" The small trinket felt warm and oddly heavy in the palm of her hand. It was not too late to change her mind.

"I – we – will call upon you," the three voices told her, blue eyes growing cold and misty. "A task, I have for you one. A task, not easy, but fair. Is your life worth the price? Fasten this around you neck and the deal will be sealed."

She was now in the hands of God. Evelin had to admit her interest had been claimed since the very start. A second chance at life. How often did that happen? She fastened the necklace around her neck with a small prayer on her lips. For better or for worse it was done. She had accepted the terms and for a little while her life would be hers, until she was called. "I thank you for the help." No response came.

Warmth. Heaviness, the sensation of something pressing into her, or rather the feeling of being crushed, confined, forced into a cramped space. After she had tasted freedom – absolute, unadulterated – her body seemed a prison, the limits of her own self holding her shackled. Sounds; muffled steps, hushed voices, weeping. The steady beeping she knew so well. Cool hands on her forehead. A flash of light, the beginning of awareness. Pen on paper, grading. Damage sustained. Did they really think her experience could be measured? That is was so easy to pin the essence to the slab and perform its autopsy?

"She is coming back," a kind voice spoke, breaking through Evelin's muddled thought.

"Thank the Lord!" Daniel's deep and familiar lilt came to assure Evelin of relative safety. His hand held hers tightly. "Can you see me well? Hear me?" He fired his questions, Evelin remaining bewildered in their wake. "We really thought we'd lost you."

"What do you mean?" Obviously she had missed some things here.

"Your heart stopped at around three forty in the afternoon. We had to restart it. It is curious as the wounds you sustained, miss Brams, should not have endangered your life," the female doctor explained. "It is most likely a case on empathizing with another."

"Where is the man that used to be here?" Evelin asked, gesturing to the empty space where she'd seen him last, when that woman in black came.

"He passed away. Your heart stopped beating at about the same time. Sadly he couldn't be saved." Pristine hand folded one over the other. "You are out of danger now, miss Brams. A few more days of observation and you should be good to go."

* * *

Notes will be added at a later time!


End file.
